Chapter 20
Reaper
Standing, I grab my water off my toolbox here at my garage, Steel Garage, and take a drink. I’m changing out the brake pads and rotors on an old Ford Mustang, but I’d much rather be a few streets over with Lark.
She got a call the other day that her normal therapist, Dr. Remington, had to go out of town for a family emergency and one of her colleagues was going to fill in for her, Dr. Ashcroft.
I was over at her friend Khloe’s place when she got the phone call.
Her face had turned so pale I was afraid she was going to faint.
Despite Lark’s worries about Dr. Ashcroft, Dr. Remington convinced her to try at least one session with him because he’s the only other therapist here in Junction Creek that works with trauma patients.
She’d have to travel to a different city if it didn’t work out with him.
I’ve never met Dr. Ashcroft, who is apparently new to town, but from what little Lark has told me, I’m already not a fan.
I check my phone, again, for what seems like the twentieth time in the past five minutes. Exhaling, I tuck it back in my pocket when I don’t see any new messages.
Refocusing, I get back to work, prying the caliper open and remove the old brake pads.
Placing them on my toolbox, I remove the caliper and prop it up so that the brake line doesn’t get damaged.
Grabbing the breaker bar, I’m about to loosen the bolts for the caliper bracket when my phone buzzes and I damn near drop my phone in my haste to get it out of my pocket.
Lark: I need you
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” I curse as I quickly wipe off my hands and grab my cut off my bench before texting her back.
Reaper: On my way
“Mark, I’ll be back later. Have one of the guys finish this up for me,” I holler over my shoulder to one of my most trusted guys in the garage as I head toward the back exit. He climbs out from under the Dodge he’s working on and gets up, wiping the grease off his hands.
“Sure thing, Boss.”
Mark’s been around long enough that he’s used to me popping out for things regarding the club or my family, but I still hate when I have to do it because it leaves them in a bit of a lurch.
But then again, that’s part of why I pay them what I do since I never know when I’ll need to pop out during work hours.
Getting in my truck, I damn near peel out of the lot and onto the main drag.
I clench my jaw as scenario after scenario runs through my head for what could have set Lark off.
She’s told me about her nightmares and while I’ve tried to help her, I wish there was more I could do for her in regards to them.
A few minutes later, my truck screeches to a halt and I jump out, slamming my door shut as I run into the therapist’s office and open the door leading to the inner hallway.
“Sir, sir! You can’t be back here,” the receptionist tries to tell me as she squeezes past me and blocks my way.
“My woman’s having a panic attack and texted me that she needs me,” I grit out as I point down the hallway. “Now, are you going to let me through so I can help pull her out of it or am I moving you out of the way?”
She hesitates for a moment as she eyes my cut, but thankfully she steps aside. “Just please try to keep your voice down so that the other patients aren’t disturbed. Do you know where you’re going?”
“Dr. Ashcroft, Lark said the offices are all labeled,” I say as I pass her.
“Down the hall and turn left at the corner,” she tells me. I nod, letting her know I heard her.
My gaze scans all the offices as I stalk in the direction the receptionist told me and when I reach Dr. Ashcroft’s, I don’t even knock and walk right in.
“Who the hell are you? Get out of here. This is a private office. You cannot just stroll in here whenever you want,” doctor dickhead rants at me, but I tune him out as I kneel down in front of Lark. I place my hands on the couch on either side of her, not touching her just yet.
“Darlin’, I’m here. I’m here, Baby.”
Lark sniffles and when she looks up, I can see her knuckles are white as she grips her phone so hard I’m surprised it hasn’t broken yet. Her eyes are haunted and full of pain. I want to beat the shit out of this dickhead for making her feel like this.
“R-Reaper?”
“Yeah, Darlin’, I’m here.”
“You cannot be in here! This is a private appointment. Leave!”
I turn on my heel and glare at him. Instantly, I see what Lark had mentioned and judging by the gleam in his eyes, he was getting off on her pain.
Fuck, with how he’s standing, I can see the outline of his dick in his trousers.
The fucker was enjoying this so much he got hard off it.
Though, since he isn’t tenting his pants, he must be wearing some sort of clothing or even tape to keep his erection as hidden as possible.
“Listen here, doctor dickhead. I don’t give a fuck who you are or how many letters are after your name.
Something you said triggered my woman to have a panic attack.
She texted me that she needed me and I am going to make sure she’s taken care of, so you can get off your fucking high horse, you fucking weasel. ”
Turning back toward Lark, I take her phone out of her hands and slip it into my pocket.
Grabbing her water bottle, I place it in her hands and make sure she has a hold of her purse.
Carefully, so as not to cause her pain with her burns, I pick her up and cradle her in my arms as I drape her coat over her. “Let’s get you out of here, Darlin’.”
Turning, I’m about to leave when I realize doctor dickhead is now blocking the door, his arms crossed across his chest as he glares at me.
“Put her down now!” He grits out, his jaw clenched tight. “Her session is not over and if anyone will be pulling her out of a panic attack, it will be a professional, not some biker scum.”
I narrow my eyes at him as Lark whimpers and curls into my chest more.
“Like hell you are. You are the reason she had a panic attack to begin with. Now move before I make you move.”
I’m about to shift Lark in my arms when a hand clamps down on the dickhead’s shoulder. I smirk as Devil makes his presence known and the dickhead’s confidence cracks when he sees Punisher and Odin behind him.
“You go on and take care of your woman, Pres. We’re going to have a little chat with the good doctor here.”
Dickhead’s face pales at the coldness in Devil’s voice and fuck do I wish I could be a part of making that asshole pay for doing this to Lark, but I need to take care of her.
I fish her keys out of her coat pocket and hand them to Odin. “Can one of you make sure her car gets back to Khloe’s house?”
I don’t wait for an answer, knowing they’ll make sure it happens.
Walking down the hallway and out into the waiting room, I ignore their curious looks.
Lark shivers as I step out into the cold winter air and I quickly walk to my truck and open the door.
Setting her down, it breaks my heart to see her staring blankly down at her shaky hands.
She makes no move to buckle her seatbelt so I buckle it for her.
Shutting the door, I jog around to my side and climb up behind the wheel.
Starting the truck, I turn on the heat, thankful that I wasn’t in the office for too long because the engine is still sort of warm.
Reversing out of the spot, I head back the way I came.
Glancing over, my chest tightens at how small Lark has curled in on herself.
Reaching over, I gently take her hand in mine but hold it in sort of reverse so that her hand is on top of mine, our palms touching.
She’s already hurting enough, I don’t need to add onto that by putting pressure on her burns.
Fifteen minutes later, I pull up outside of Khloe’s house and internally curse when I see Zac’s truck is here.
I’ve never liked the asshole, but I’ve bitten my tongue multiple times for Khloe’s sake.
Except for the few times he tried to dictate what Lark did.
I didn’t punch the asshole, even though I wanted to, but we did have words.
Killing the engine, I quickly get out, round the truck and open her door. Other than shiver at the cold air, Lark still doesn’t react.
“Reaper?”
I turn, seeing Emma at the front door, her worried gaze locked on Lark.
“She had a panic attack and texted me.”
Emma’s lips thin as anger blazes in her eyes. She was also hesitant about today’s session, but like me, she doesn’t know much about Dr. Ashcroft since he’s fairly new in town.
I pick up Lark and carefully climb the porch steps. Emma holds open the door and points upstairs. I nod, grateful that she isn’t insisting on me leaving.
“What the fuck? What did you do to her? Get your hands off her,” Zac seethes as he gets off the couch and stalks toward me.
Rage builds in me but Emma steps in between us with a pointed look at me and then the stairs. I push my anger down. Lark needs me right now.
Turning on my heel, I head upstairs and lay her down on her bed.
I close the door behind us and then untie her boots before slipping them off.
Slipping off my coat, I set her coat and purse on a nearby chair.
Spotting her throw blanket, I drape it over her, smiling when Void jumps up and curls up behind her knees.
Walking over to the other side of the bed, I hesitate but then lay down opposite her and carefully pull her into my arms.
Pressing a kiss to her forehead, I hold her as she battles through whatever her mind is working through.
All the while, I quietly talk to her. Telling her that she’s strong.
That she can fight through whatever that asshole made her think.
That she is enough. That she is worthy. I repeat all of it, hoping either the words or my voice will sink through the fog of her panic.
About a half an hour later, Lark blinks and her eyes finally come back into focus.
“Reaper?”